Obsession
by Keraleona
Summary: Tormented by the dreams he has after the OVA mission, Aya tries to cope with newfound anger and lust for a certain teammate.... Ranken content.


Obsession  
  
Author's note: I don't own Weiss, though I wish I did. Just a rabid fangirl. Bwuaha. First real attempt at a fic.. please be nice *nervous laughter*   
Chapter 1  
  
Every night it was the same dream…  
  
The snow falling lightly onto the bloodstained ground, screams from Omi rising in the air as he glared onward. Amethyst eyes twitching only slightly as a gloved hand tightened on the hilt of the katana while that white jacket rippled around his ankles. His glare was met by a familiar gaze, one that seemed as angry as his own. He watched those swirling pools of light sapphire with an odd fascination as he felt the gusts of frigid wind brush against those pale, wintry cheeks. There were words spoken between the two of them… but that didn't matter, adrenaline was thumping through his veins; hot and supple. And then, there was the clash of weapons, the sparks and the hot anger flowing vibrantly between the two of them. It was a bliss he'd never felt before, things were right, this was how they should be. The feeling of violence and the tease of death. "You think you can beat me?" Aya hissed. Claws snapped and shattered as he twisted his Katana violently, he would win. He was supposed to win this way, it was right, it was normal… but then. The look in those eyes, he was wrong and he felt the sting as a single claw plunged into his chest, white hot fired exploded and he fell backward taking a moment to stare at the other before darkness and a shrill scream carried him far, far away.  
  
That was where Aya woke up, dripping with sweat while his hands fisted into the cotton white sheets of his bed as he tried to ignore the growing erection underneath those sheets. Calmly, he pressed a palm on his cheek and closed his eyes. That image of that very gaze was still pounding in his mind, giving him flashbacks of that confident grin before.. Ken killed him. It drove him insane, every night, that dream, sure it was a hoax and Weiss had pulled it off brilliantly in order to save Manx. But that battle between the two seemed so personal. He'd been the one to say the final battle should have been between himself and Ken, he'd even suggested that it was him to die. But it played off much differently, the violent touches, the screaming, the fighting, the way Ken would look at him every time he was about to strike.   
  
Even through the violence, he could smell the lavender in Ken's hair and the salt on his face as their weapons clashed and they drew close, snarling and growling. It drove him into an obsession. His fingers now ached to touch that skin; ached with wanting to thrust them through the bed of honey kissed strands. But it was that quirk of a smile, the slight curve of a corner of those full lips that made Aya want to bruise them with his own.   
  
"K'so…" He growled, falling back onto the bed; the sheet curled around his hips as he thrashed a little. A hard mattress was unforgiving to the uncomfortable, but even now, it made little difference to Aya. He chose to ignore the pain his back was giving him, the screaming of the muscles paid a second choice to the rage that coursed through his veins. "Ken.." Aya hissed, letting the name roll off his tongue and trickle over his lips. The image of those eyes and the shiver of his scream stayed in his mind as Aya laid back onto the mattress.  
  
He knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. Like any other night.  
  
His eyelids fluttered as he lay there on the unyielding bed before casually draping a forearm across those eyes that mirrored the color of jaded wine. It wasn't normal for him to let this eat away at him inside, one so calm and collected and mentally unstable shouldn't dwell on a gaze. But deep down, he took pleasure in the way that gaze was only meant for him, even with the intentions behind it. It was something that others couldn't take from him. That gaze was meant for him, and him alone.  
  
"Shut up.." Aya told himself. "Stop thinking." Sweat beaded alone the crimson hair line, it was getting hot in the early summer, Aya hated it. He wanted it cool, calm and silent. But Japan was anything but that, and now even his mind screamed words at him. His body thrashed and pale, marble hands fisted themselves into sheets as he grit his teeth; another growl surged in the vocal chords of his throat. The more he thought about this, the more it drove him insane.   
  
And there was a tightness growing in his sweatpants that Aya could not ignore as he turned over onto his side. He refuse to take pleasure in the pain of that battle, the angst, the anger, the rage flowing flawlessly between the two. It was then he snapped those amethyst jewels shut and grit his teeth as a scarlet ear-tail spilled over his cheek, the contrast of white and crimson glowing in the soft moon light that haunted his bed.   
  
"Leave me alone Ken…" Aya hissed, his knuckled turning white, almost ghostly. "Just leave me alone. I don't want this.."  
But a little voice inside told him he was wrong.   
  
"Leave me alone Ken!"   
Sunlight blossomed into the room as Ken Hikada stood in the corner of the roomy kitchen scrambling eggs on the stove. His boxers shimmered in the pale glisten of the dying dawn that Aya couldn't help but notice as he slid into the bar, hand reaching our and grasping an orange from the fruit bowl. He held the orange in his hands for a few minutes, amethyst eyes locked onto the younger man as his nails bit into the skin as he watched the light sway of those hips, until they began to travel up the slender curve of his back. There were alone in the room, totally alone, and Aya began to find out just how hard it was not to stare, how hard it was to keep his muscles from twitching and how hard it was to not want to press his mouth against that honeydew skin. Thoughts of how succulent that tanned skin would taste and how soft his lips would feel brushing against his own. How easy it would have been to run his pale fingers through that mass of dark chocolate until he could curl his digits through the strands of silk before yanking back to expose that bronzed neck, giving him access to bite and suck until Ken called out his name…  
  
"Aya," Ken yawned as he turned, still holding the black iron frying pan in his hands. The red head jolted in his seat, fingers digging deeply into the poor, innocent fruit as his hands were splattered and stained with juice. It was just like the way blood of a victim would… only that was hot and thick where the juice was cool and sticky. His eyes locked with Ken's and he found himself drowning in pools of sapphire before he slowly sucked away the juice that was on his hands before he realized what he was doing. His eyes widened and he snatched that same hand away from his mouth in half a heartbeat. "Ah… is something the matter?" Ken questioned, setting the pan on the counter as he reached out to rest a hand on Aya's shoulder.   
  
"Don't touch me!" Aya hissed and jerked away from the chair, while amethyst eyes blazed with fresh rage. He could feel the palm print burning into his pale, ghostly skin as the orange rolled around over the counter until he saw Ken's palm close over the abandoned piece of fruit.   
  
"Aya?"  
  
"He's probably cranky because he didn't get any sleep last night." An exhausted Yohji mumbled as he stumbled into the room.  
  
"And how do you know that Yohji-kun?" Omi yawned as he padded softly after Yohji, besides Aya, he was the only one who was fully dressed.  
  
"All night long he kept me up! I could hear him tossing and yelling through the walls!"   
  
They all turned to face him as Aya stood motionless, the feeling of their eyes boring into him was enough to make his blood curl in discomfort. And slowly, one by one he returned gazes, except Ken's, as the corner's of his lips began to twitch. There was nothing to be said, and with that, Aya exited the room.   
  
"Oy! Aya!" Ken called after him, tossing the orange to the older man who caught it instinctively. That was where their eyes met, gazes drowning in each others before Aya found the strength to pull away, it was too dangerous to stare at him like that. There was something in that gaze that made Aya want to shiver. It was that same look that made him turn hastily on his heel and walk out of the room.  
  
"What is up with him?" Yohji mused as Ken scrapped some eggs onto his plate. "I heard him mention your name Ken."   
  
"Oh?" Ken questioned, dark eyebrows rising as he sat down across from Yohji. "What did he say?"  
  
"I dunno, I couldn't really make it out. But he sounded angry."  
  
"He's seemed stressed lately," Omi pointed out as he saw sat, passing glasses to the other men.   
  
"What'd you do now Ken?"  
  
"Why does it have to be that I always have done something?!" Ken yelled, hitting his plate with his fork. "I've barely even spoken to him!"   
  
"Well you're the screw up of the group," Yohji smiled as he stuck some eggs in his mouth.  
  
"BAKA-NE!"  
  
"Ken, you're not an idiot! Don't ever think you are! You are a smart person!"  
  
"YOHJI!!!!!!"  
  
  
  
Clenched fists shook at his sides as Aya leaned against the wall in the hallways. He could hear them talking about him and it was bothersome. The sound of Ken's voice rolled in his head, that note of smugness made his blood run how in his veins at the sound. The satisfaction was thick and oozing in his tone which sparked a fire. Ken liked the fact that Aya has said his name while sleeping… Goosebumps prickled over his arms, and with anger, Aya swallowed a shudder. Time beads of sweat began to break out along his crimson hairline before dribbling down his pale face. He could feel it slip down his neck and under his shirt. How he wanted to go back there and slip his fingers around Ken's throat… and thought he wanted to squeeze, the returning thought of jerking that man's head back, exposing that soft, delicate flesh… soft… warm. Aya fidgeted against the wall, a tightness in his pants growing as these thoughts filled his brain, the beginnings or an arousal. A blush threatened to creep onto those wintry cheeks with the thought of naked skin against his own, hot and damp with sweat; fingers clawing his back and the other squirming beneath him in submission. Thoughts that just this morning that were violent and destructive… were beginning to turn… sexual.  
  
"Ken what are you doing to me…" Aya hissed as he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes for a second.   
  
"What do you mean 'What am I doing to you?"' A voice snapped beside him, causing Aya to jump.  
  
"Ken!" 


End file.
